Page 9 of Kept By The Mountain Man

Evie

Isthis how I thought my first date would go?

No.

Do I regret it, though?

Also no.

Hendrix isn’t the usual Prince Charming type. He’s not charming or good with words. He’s rough around the edges, brusque, and not much of a talker, but I still would rather be out with him.

He might be grumpy, but he shows that he cares about me in other ways. He has been all day, and the more that I think about it, the more I start to notice that he was doing things like today for the whole time that I’ve known him. He always got me lunch. He knows all of my favorite foods, and I realize that they’ve been stocked in his kitchen for months. One day when I rubbed my lower back after sitting in the uncomfortable kitchen table chair, and the next day I walked in and had a brand new office chair. He’s been looking after me in his own grumpy, silent way all along. I was just too blind to notice it.

“Do you come here often?” I ask him as he pulls out my chair.

“No, never had a reason to before.”

“Yeah, it does seem romantic. Better suited for a date,” I agree.

I look around the restaurant and smile as I take it in. It’s a smaller place with only a dozen tables or so. Each one is covered in a white tablecloth with a tiny flickering candle in the center. Soft music plays, something light and classic sounding.

My smile dims when I see some of the other couples at nearby tables staring at us. I thought that I noticed some people watching us when we walked in, but I was distracted by Hendrix. Now though, I start to feel self-conscious.

“Ignore them,” Hendrix tells me, and I glance back at him.

“Hmm?”

“Ignore them. They’ll get used to seeing us out together soon enough.”

I nod and grab my menu, looking over the menu.

“Want to split an appetizer?” I ask him, and he grunts.

I smile as I look over the rest of the menu. The waitress comes over, and my smile widens when he orders the spinach artichoke dip. That was what I wanted, and before today, I would have assumed that he was just ordering whatever he wanted and not considering me. Now, though, I know that he just knows what I like and is ordering what I want.

Is this really just pretend?

I can’t stop thinking about Hendrix and how different things were today. Well, things weren’t that different, it was more like my eyes had been opened by what he said this morning, and now I can’t help but see him in a new light.

If this is all pretend to him, then he’s a better actor than I expected.

“Have you decided?” Our waitress asks, and I blink, looking up at her.

“Oh, um…” I quickly scan the menu and make a decision quickly. “I’ll have the chicken alfredo, please.”

“Same,” Hendrix says, passing the waitress his menu without looking at her.

She heads back to the kitchen, and I take a chip, scooping up some artichoke dip.

“So, tell me about yourself,” I say as I pop the chip in my mouth.

“What do you want to know?” he asks as he grabs his own chip.

“Well, anything. I don’t really know that much about you.”

“I’m twenty-eight.”

“Uh huh…”

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